


Little Dreams

by Darkest_Day



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Badass Morgana, Celebrity Arthur, Chef Merlin, Chopped Imitation, Christmas, Cooking Show, Eventually Uther Understands, Homeless Merlin, Homelessness, M/M, Mild Angst, Planned Homelessness, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkest_Day/pseuds/Darkest_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's running away, Merlin's just trying to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I like reading homeless fics, so I wanted to write my own. I thought I'd try something new, let Merlin lose his home but have him prepare for it. It was supposed to end at the second chapter, then it kept going. I'm very happy with how this turned out, and I sincerely hope you will enjoy reading this!

The woman behind the counter gives him a sympathetic look, "I figured out why your card won't work." And Merlin could only guess, it was a half-formed thought at the back of his mind. 

"Looks like you owe twenty-one, fifty, in overdue charges." 

"Well those were ages ago," Merlin tries, trying not to sound too desperate. "I was, what, sixteen?" He joked, because he really couldn't afford that much. Why had he been such a stupid child? Forgetting to take his library books back even though it wasn't that far from the school, or any of his usual hangouts. Not really, anyway, he had just been lazy. 

He needed, above anything else, to keep his cell phone working. It was the only way he'd know if he got any of the jobs he'd been applying for recently. He needed that before he needed anything else. 

"Well, I suppose.." The woman trailed off, peering at the screen. Then she straightened, grinning. "There we go, how does eleven seventy five sound?" She asked. "It's the best I can do." 

That was a much better price, and he knew it would be worth it. Grateful, but still hesitant to hand over what little money he had, he handed her a couple of bills. After getting the change, he made his way to one of the computers and sat down. His card hadn't worked, the thing old and beaten and greying around the edges, but the number was still good, and all he needed was the number. 

At least he had it now, and he could use the computer freely. So he did, for two hours (Friday nights no one came to the library) he searched jobs. Jotting each one down on a scrap of paper and applying online anytime there was the option to. 

He lied when it asked him for his address, writing down the location of the place he used to live. After, he went outside and lit up a cigarette. They were a rare treat, he couldn't buy them but it was truly astonishing how many people dropped their packs on the ground. 

The breeze was bitter and icy, it hadn't started snowing yet but it was about to. He could feel it. The bag on his shoulders was heavy, he was tired. But it was better to walk than to just stand there, so he started to walk, chin tucked under the scarf and his hands stuffed into his pockets. 

This was the most difficult part of each day. 

There weren't many places no one was going to come around, the library was good but not for every night. The park, the beach, was great, but the breeze from the lake made everything colder. He hid his bag under the stairs around the back of a random building, ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his thumbs over his jaw. He needed to shave again soon, he was getting scruffy. But, he was satisfied he was presentable. 

He went into one of the nightclubs. It was warm in there, so long as he didn't look like a bum they let him in. His clothes weren't tattered yet, but they'd get there if he survived the winter. He went straight to the bar, giving the bartender a sheepish grin, "DD tonight, can I get something fizzy?" He asked, and the cup was handed to him. Grateful, he curled himself into one of the booths at the corner of the room. It was busy, the music was loud, people were jumping around each other on the dance floor. 

They closed at 3 AM, he left early. A night of bumming cigarettes and pocketing them, scanning the ground for dropped change and bills left him feeling better about spending the money at the library. 

He retrieved his bag, and started walking. 

It started to snow as he settled on the grounds of a school, it was late enough that the drunk teenagers had already cleared out. And he knew for a fact there were no cameras around here. 

With a shivering sigh, he pulled on another hoodie and the thick blanket he had known he would need, and settled against the wall to sleep. He thought about begging for money, maybe, he might be able to afford a cheap car if he really pushed it. At least it would be warmer, and who cared if it ran? It would be better than this. 

 

  
 

 

The paper skidded across the table, nearly upending the shitty coffee in the paper cup as it went. Tiredly, Arthur peered up at his sister. "How do you handle this shit?" She asked, words bitten through painted red lips. He cast a glance to the paper, barely reading the headline. "You can't keep living like this." 

He only shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "Arthur, please, let us help." She sat beside him, her voice soft now, not accusing. "Let's go to Paris for Christmas, okay? We'll tell everyone we're going to Italy, they won't follow you there." 

"It's fine." He said gently, pushing the paper away. Another article debating on which drugs he was using, and how close he was to an overdose. Never mind the fact that he had never taken drugs in his life, his father had been far too strict for him to even think about trying anything. 

"You're clearly not. These people are vultures, you need to clean yourself up and have an interview. Set the story straight. That stupid role you took last month doesn't count for anything, these vultures know you're capable of so much more, they're eating you alive." 

The press was at his back, constantly, snapping pictures of every move and speculating on his state of mind. Drugs was their biggest guess, their first assumption, the easiest idea to attack. 

He was just tired. He'd liked working on the show _Nails_ , he'd been a loving, happy father, who caught criminals behind the scenes by way of drugging them and exposing their proof of murder for the police to find. His adoring wife, in the show, had been close to figuring out his dangerous and illegal second life before the _thing_ happened. 

He still didn't want to think about it. 

The minor role was pathetic, he had known that, but he had been aching for something to do. He had played the part well, but the press had a conniption about his apparent refusal to take the lead role. 

"I don't much feel like flying anywhere." He said lamely, peering at her.

"Do I have to tie you up and drag you onto a plane?" She threatened, her elbows on the table, fingers folding and unfolding by her chin. "At least promise me that you'll sit an interview after the holidays, okay?"

"Fine." He said, shrugging and pulling the cup towards him. It was cold now, the surface dark and murky. "Whatever you say." 

"And don't go see your father." She added, "I know he's your father but he's the last person you need to see right now. I'd rather throw you to the vultures." 

He nodded, simply agreeing to whatever Morgana said. In truth, he had no real plans. Though, he would probably go to his father's absurd home anyways. It was an obligation, and Morgana refused to go near there so he would be safe from her prying into his life for a little while. 

He would simply have to deal with his father, and after a lifetime of that he was more or less an expert. 

With a soft sigh, Morgana stood. "Stay here, okay? I'm going to go get something for dinner." 

When she left, he gave her ten minutes before he left too. He got in his car and turned the radio on, some station playing useless Christmas music, and drove. He had no destination in mind, not really, he just drove and drove to get away from it. After he was far enough away from his home, his phone started ringing. He laughed, tossing it to the other seat. Morgana had scolded him for talking on the phone while driving once. 

Arthur kept driving well into the night. The roads were icy, the snow was flying. It was peaceful, in a way. The time on the dash blinked at him, every so often he would glance at it, see how long he had been driving for. 

The darkness was beginning to fade, the first sign of daylight somewhere in the distance. He was so tired, leaning back in the seat, just watching the road absently, foot on the gas, it wasn't snowing anymore. 

It happened quickly. He didn't have enough time to react, perhaps if he hadn't been driving on only a few hours of sleep, he'd have been able to do something. The other car had bright headlights, he noticed dimly, and when they were gone the car was skidding sideways towards him. He noticed the driver, looking absolutely terrified, and tried to muster up the energy to look anything other than half dead before everything went black. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is sure he will freeze out here.

 

A shiver ran down his spine, the cold was icy and the layers did nothing to help. His fingertips were almost completely numb, but long ago he had stopped cursing himself for cutting the fingers off of his gloves. He hadn't thought to buy a new pair before all of this happened. 

The lights inside the restaurant were orange, the windows were glowing and inviting, and he itched to go inside. it was one of the only places open tonight, it was late and it was cold and there was snow falling on the hard ground. He didn't remember it snowing this much when he had been younger, or even last year. It didn't glitter in the sun like it used to, it didn't look so inviting. 

He turned his head, looking around him, and winced as the hat shifted on his head, scraping his ear. It was blistering, bright red, frost bitten but not so bad it was turning black yet. It was still okay, he was still okay. He hadn't died yet, and it wouldn't be long now until it was summer. 

Merlin hadn't had a proper meal in so long, he had forgotten what food tasted like. He had forgotten the smell of it, the heat of it. He couldn't remember what a warm meal felt like. 

Something painful scraped inside his chest, aching as he stood near the entrance. He sucked in a breath, the cold burning his lungs. 

It was Christmas eve, he was hungry and this was something he needed to do. He was almost out of money, he'd been able to hold onto most of it for a long time now. But it was running out, there was almost nothing left. 

A gust of wind whipped by him, burning his eyes as he turned away from it. The bits of snow were like the ends of needles, sharp against his skin. So he grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open, heart hammering in his chest as though he were doing something illegal, not getting something to eat. 

"Waiting on someone, hon?" The lady behind the counter said, giving him a tired smile. It must have been a long night for her. He shook his head, and she only smiled brighter for him. "Well come on then, you look cold, there's a spot here, right by the heater." 

He sank into the chair gratefully, setting his bag down under the table. "Anything to drink, sweetie?" She asked. 

"Water, please." He rasped, voice dry and tough in his lungs. He wondered why she hadn't simply thrown him out. He knew he was beginning to look homeless. 

But then, wasn't it the style for kids to look a little homeless? Perhaps he was still able to pull off some level of who he used to be. 

"Help yourself, then, dear." She was tottering off then, and Merlin lamented that he couldn't give her a tip. After a moment of holding his hands over the heater beside him, he stood. He kept the woollen hat over his head, not entirely willing to let anyone else see the blisters on his ear. 

He felt as though the cold had settled into his bones, and no matter what he did he couldn't shake it. He peeled the gloves off and shoved them into his pocket, then grabbed one of the plates. He nearly dropped the stupid thing, shocked at the heat of it. The decorations, paper lamps and other random bits, hung above the long table. 

Merlin always loved Chinese food, and piled his plate full before heading back to the table. And before he started eating, he pulled off his coat and hung it over the chair behind him. It was steaming. 

The first bite of something hot, something that was absolutely delicious and full of flavour brought tears to his eyes. And how pathetic was that, sitting here, crying over a plate of food that everyone around them could afford? 

He spent a moment, sitting there, staring at it and trying desperately to keep it all in, when someone placed a glass in front of him. He nearly jumped, looking up at the waitress again. "Are you okay?" She asked, her voice soft. Merlin nodded, quickly, bowing his head to clear his eyes before he lost it completely. 

Her hand came to his hair, ruffling it kindly. "I'm sorry." She said, and Merlin felt ashamed of where his life had taken him. "This came from that table, the woman with long black hair. She said she thought you could use it, and you're welcome to sit with her." She grinned at him, trying to lighten his mood as Merlin looked up at her again. "No one should be alone on Christmas, love." 

When she left, her curls bounding behind her, he brought his gaze up enough to see who had paid for his drink. The amber liquid looked inviting, but he held off for the moment. The woman was watching him, her eyes were sharply kind, and she smiled. 

She was sitting with someone who had blonde hair, his head bent, staring down at the table. She gave him a nod, a jerk of her head, an invitation. And, looking around him, he was the only one here alone. Families, friends, people who were spending their Christmas together. And Merlin was here alone, spending the last of his money on food. 

He stood slowly, shouldering his bag and grabbing the plate and the glass of rum and carrying it over. The blonde man shuffled over slowly, to let Merlin sit, and protectively he set his bag under the table, under his feet. He wouldn't normally do this, but he hadn't had proper company in a long time. 

"I'm Morgana." The woman said, smiling fondly. "That's my brother, Arthur, don't mind him. He's a bit drugged up right now." The man beside Merlin made a noise of protest, but his movements were sluggish and one of his arms was trapped in a cast. 

"He's just had a nasty accident, and he's lucky he didn't die." Her words were probably harsher than she intended them to be, but he could tell she cared in the way her hands shook. He could have laughed, then, a Chinese food place that didn't give out chopsticks to every table. He hadn't even noticed. 

"Now, who are you?" 

Now he was regretting sitting here, but he couldn't just leave. That would be rude. 

"Er, I'm Merlin." He said. And from beside him, the man snorted. And for the first time since he had sat down, since Morgana had started speaking, turned to look at him. He was a little bit gorgeous, his gaze a little heavy, weary, probably from the painkillers he was still on. He had a strong jaw, firm and bold, his hair a little bit shaggy, falling into his eyebrows. His eyes blue and if he were more awake, Merlin thought, they'd be intense and powerful. 

"Really, _Mer_ lin? What kind of name is _that_?" And shit, his voice was lovely too. All haughty and holier-than-thou and utterly insufferable but absolutely wonderful to listen to. 

"Well it's my name, you prat." He replied, feigning annoyance. But something was lightening in him, something heavy was lifting. The coldness in his very bones was thawing. 

Arthur was laughing, Merlin was grinning in the way that crinkled his eyes. The three of them ate together, it left a warm feeling in his chest. His first proper meal in ages, and he didn't have to be alone for it. He felt like a piece of home, a piece of himself he had been missing for so long. Like last Christmas, even without his mother he had been with all his friends, baking pies and treats, curled up on the couch together watching stupid Christmas shows together. He hadn't been so alone. 

Merlin tried not to overeat, or he would make himself sick. He ate slowly, and they stayed for a long time. Talking, laughing, eating, wasting away the evening together. And Merlin couldn't help but get dessert, and thought about sneakily putting a few in a napkin for another day. For tomorrow, when nothing would be open and he would be completely alone. 

Arthur had grown more attentive as the time had passed, waking up a bit more, seeming to enjoy himself. Merlin adored his smile, there was something wonderfully attractive about him. It was a shame that he would probably never see him again. 

Eventually, they were putting on their coats, bundling up again. Morgana wore thin gloves with a puffy waistline, made of fur, she was far too well dressed for a cheap Chinese food restaurant. And Arthur, too, slinging the coat over one shoulder awkwardly, these two obviously had money. 

The waitress wandered over, "Did you enjoy everything?" She asked happily.

"All on one bill, please." Morgana was saying, grabbing her purse and shuffling through it for one of those elegant looking long wallet things. Merlin didn't even know what they were called. 

"Oh, I can get my--"

"Nonsense, you dealt with my mopey brother wonderfully, I have to repay you somehow." Arthur only sighed, and Merlin bit his tongue. He could go a little bit longer, now. 

"Thank you." He said quietly, Morgana only smiled, pressing a few bills into the waitress' hands and leading the way out. Merlin shouldering the bag and bracing himself for the cold outside. It was a shock, the biting wind ripping through the layers of cloth he wore. It was never enough. He had finally warmed his bones, and the coldness that had frosted just under his skin, and stepping back into it was like the first night he had spent out in the cold. 

"So, where are you headed?" Morgana asked, leading the way back to her obviously expensive car. "I'll drive you, it's far too cold to walk home."

"Oh, no, that's okay." He said, quickly, "I can walk, it's fine. I couldn't trouble you, it's not that far away." Truthfully, he didn't know where to go. There were a few spots, already picked over by others. And the shelters were always full, he didn't trust any of them enough to sleep while he had his bag on him. It was everything he had left. 

Morgana raised an eyebrow, but it was Arthur who stepped in. "I insist, get in the damn car." He said irritably. Morgana frowned at him. 

"No, I really couldn't" He tried, hopelessly, tempted to just start running because he wasn't sharing this secret with anyone. He was stepping backwards, slowly, "Thank you, for the meal. It was nice meeting you two." 

With that, he was turning down the street. Leaving the two of them behind. He walked and walked, feeling colder and colder as he did so. The snow hadn't stopped, it kept falling in large clusters, and he watched them. He tried to find peace in it, he tried so hard to feel okay with all of this. But gods, he was lonely. 

The company of the two strangers had lifted his spirits, but it didn't make this any easier. He hadn't been able to find a job, and eventually he hadn't been able to afford the phone anymore. So anyone who might have hired him had no way of contacting him. Things were getting bad, and one of these nights he thought he might wind up freezing to death. 

He lit up a cigarette, someone had given the pack to him in a fit of kindness, and smoked it wearily. He supposed it wouldn't be too bad to freeze to death, maybe it would be like going to sleep. And he knew it was just going to get worse. It was going to get colder and colder and he would be out of money very soon. 

He swore under his breath, he wished his mother were here. He wished that Will were still alive. He wished that he had the heart to commit a crime, at least a prison cell would be heated. 

No one else was around, everyone was inside by their fires, enjoying their Christmas eve with their families. No one else would be stupid enough to walk around outside, so the tears fell freely. There was a hotel just up the street, they were usually decent places. Sometimes he could sneak in and find a place to sleep. 

But maybe he shouldn't bother. His skin felt numb, the wet streaks of tears down his cheeks were probably freezing now. There were so many things that had gone wrong, government help had fallen through. His job searching had been futile. He had drifted away from all of his friends. He had tried, so hard, to make it. He had pawned off everything he owned to have enough money to survive, he hadn't been able to make rent, his landlord had kicked him out when he realized Merlin had lost his job. 

He couldn't walk anymore, his legs hurt, so he sat down on the bench. One of the bus stops, and just sat there, trying to piece together some sort of plan. 

"Merlin?" A voice broke through the stillness, he had only heard the soft sound of snow hitting the ground. He turned his head, spotting Arthur standing there, looking concerned. He bowed his head in shame, looking away. He was lit up by the orange of the streetlights around them. It was almost misty. 

Arthur was sitting beside him, Merlin kept looking down. 

"I thought you went home" He said softly. "What are you doing all the way out here?" 

Merlin choked on a bark of laughter, the sound almost hurt to make. "I don't have anywhere to go." He said. "I'm a bum, couldn't you tell?" His voice wavered, unshed frustration and agony building up inside. "I guess I hide it well, don't I? I fit in with all those hipster kids." His voice broke, finally. 

"Come inside." Arthur said softly. 

"I don't need your charity." 

"No, I guess you don't. But your lips are turning blue, you need to be somewhere warm. Come inside." 

Arthur curled his fingers around Merlin's elbow, pulling him to his feet and leading him down the street. He thought that he was being led to the hotel at first, but Arthur kept going. It wasn't that far, Arthur must have been wandering to have found him. He could feel the warmth of Arthur's hand through the layers, and nearly pushed into his side to seek more of that warmth. 

He led Merlin to a home, the front porch lights were on, but no Christmas lights. Arthur brought him inside, and the first thing he could smell was the fireplace. The rich scent of wood, the spice of freshly brewed chai tea. Merlin felt like melting, and slipped off his shoes alongside Arthur's. He hung his coat, and carried his bag inside. 

Morgana looked surprised to see Merlin, but didn't say anything. Instead, she grabbed a third cup and filled it, passing it to Merlin. Gods, he would be content just sitting here smelling it for an eternity. It seemed almost too good to drink, too rare to waste. 

Arthur was sitting next to him again, and Morgana looked between the two of them sadly. He wondered what she saw in him, why she was okay with all of this. 

They didn't talk, the table was silent save for the pop and crackle of the fire. The soft lights of the tree against the window. The tea was good, and he savoured it because he didn't know how long until he could have it again. The silence wasn't awkward, until, "Merlin, do you know who Arthur is?" 

He looked up, then glanced at Arthur. Insanely good looking, grey bags under his eyes, stress lines, he nodded to him. "The guy right there?" He asked. 

"What if his last name is Pendragon?" She continued, Arthur visibly stiffened. 

"Er, where are you going with this?" He asked, confused. Morgana beamed. 

"You can keep him." She said approvingly, leaving Merlin even more confused, and stood. "The couch is already made up for you, Arthur. Merlin, I've got a spare room if you'd like?" 

"Why wouldn't Arthur take the bed?" 

"I roll around too much," He said, looking at the two of them. "If I'm on the couch, I'll stay still. I won't hurt myself that way." 

That made sense, he guessed, and slowly the three of them went into the living room. The lights of the tree were pretty, and he could smell the needles. He sank into the soft couch, the opposite side that Arthur had taken. He was drifting to sleep before he could process the thought. 

Later, he woke up with someone's feet under his legs, he could feel the hard line of someone's shins against his own, and opened his eyes. The lights of the tree were still on, and Arthur was sleeping awkwardly on the other end of the couch. His expression was pinched in pain, as if it hurt even to sleep. This was the first time he had woken up like this, warm and safe, not shivering or panicking because he couldn't feel a part of his skin. 

He removed the hat from his head, someone had thrown a blanket over him and it was heavy in the middle. Arthur had one too, and where their legs twined together the blankets overlapped. He brought his fingers to his ear gingerly, it felt hot to the touch but, from what he could tell, not any worse. 

Carefully, he pulled the blanket back and slid from the couch. His legs were wobbly, but the air in the room wasn't insufferably cold. It was pleasant, the fire had died down to low embers. He walked slowly through the house, looking for the washroom to take a look at his ear. He needed to make sure it was still looking okay. And maybe they'd have something he could put on it, not that he had the faintest idea how to deal with a blistering ear. 

The lights of the bathroom were blindingly bright, reflecting off the reflective surface of the counter and the sink. He caught his reflection in the mirror, and just stared. He hadn't properly taken a look at himself in a long time, he had nearly forgotten what he looked like. 

He peered at his reflection, taking in the shape and angles of his face. There was a scar on his cheek, and he couldn't remember where that had come from. It was small, a tiny white line, and he pressed his fingers to it. There were lines around his eyes, shadows under them. His hair was longer than he thought it was, curling around his eyebrows. His skin was dirty, he thought, and ran the tap until the water was hot. He used the soap beside the sink, lathering it over his hands and bringing them to his skin. 

After he rinsed the soap away, his skin looked a shade lighter. He was pretty good at finding a place to shower, but he always had to be quick. Get the most important parts washed first, then get the hell out of there before someone asked questions. 

The frostbite on his ear looked worse than it did the last time he had checked, blistering and oozing. But it wasn't cold anymore, just hot to the touch, perhaps it was infected. It was an ugly mark, and with ears as large as his it was hard to miss. 

He stroked the hair on his chin, getting a little too long now, but for the winter it helped. He'd keep it, and if he survived the winter then he could shave it off and try again. He let out a soft breath, he felt less weary than he had before. He'd been able to sleep for a few hours in the comfort and warmth of someone's home. And he should go now, he knew, because he didn't want to intrude on their Christmas morning. 

But Merlin couldn't bring himself to do that, he couldn't bring himself to go back into the cold, and he didn't know where he would go, either. 

There was a knock on the bathroom door, he jumped and turned towards it, defences rising, where was his bag? Then he let out a breath, unlocked the door and opened it. Arthur stood there, watching him, "why were you outside?" He blurted out, words stumbling out of him before he could think about them. 

"We were worried." He admitted, voice soft. "We thought you might not have had anywhere to go. That bag you carry, she thought it might have been all you own." That much was true. Arthur jerked his head to the side, nodding towards the rest of the house, and he followed. He had thought about finding the spare room, to let Arthur have the couch on his own. But on his way here, all the doors had been closed and it felt intrusive to just walk into one of them. 

He followed him into the living room, Arthur's features lit by the soft white glow of the tree. "You walked in the direction we were going, I hoped I'd find you. I didn't think I would, I worried." He confessed, sitting back down with a wince. Merlin unzipped the hoodie he wore, sliding it over the back of the couch. He hadn't taken them off like this in a long time, he wore the long sleeved shirt, comfortable and still left over from when he had worn nice clothes. 

Merlin could see the loneliness in him, then, as they sat together. He'd been in a car accident, Morgana had said. 

Is that what made him look so abused? Merlin only settled into the comfortable cushions of the couch, pulling the blanket tight around him. "You can stay here, as long as you need." He said kindly. "Morgana won't mind. She won't be here for much longer anyways. She has business to attend to." 

Merlin nodded, he shouldn't accept. He didn't want to, he wasn't a charity case and he had made it this far already on his own, he didn't need help. But he looked outside, where the snow hadn't stopped falling yet. He had thought about letting the winter, and the snow, claim his life, so he could finally rest. 

"What brings you here, then?" He asked instead, because he couldn't give Arthur an answer. It would be wonderful to stay here, but he wasn't so sure he could truly accept it. But he wouldn't survive otherwise, and he wasn't quite ready to die yet. 

Arthur didn't answer for a long time, so long that the silence seemed edged with something almost painful. He was about to say something else, change the subject, when Arthur spoke. "I'm running away." Which seemed a little absurd for an adult to be saying something like that. Arthur was probably only a few years older than himself. 

But it didn't look like he was going to say anymore, so Merlin only nodded, tucking the blankets around him tightly. He was comfortable here, at least, comfortable enough to enjoy the silence. The lights of the tree, the reflections of the snow outside. Arthur's pale face, and perhaps his jaw was a bit too defined, his cheeks a little too sunken, his wrists a little too thin. Or, he could only see one of them. The other one was in a cast. 

He didn't know anything about this lonely man before him. He gave so little away, he was a mystery. And then, why had Morgana asked him if someone named 'Arthur Pendragon' meant anything to him? He tried to wrack his brain, thinking about if he had heard that name. And it might have been familiar, actually, but he couldn't place it. He was tired again, he was sick of all this thinking. Arthur was awkwardly arranging the blanket around him, and settling back against the mound of pillows behind him to sleep. Merlin thought about moving as he watched Arthur. 

Then Arthur's feet pressed under his thighs, cold through the fabric of his pants, and he shifted, lying sideways across the couch and letting his legs settle comfortably beside Arthur's. 

A shadow passed over his face in the morning, and he slowly pried his eyes open. Morgana stood there, hands on her hips, and he worried he was in trouble, sitting up quickly and pulling his legs from under Arthur's knees, and stared at her, head bowed, guilty as though he should have left in the night. 

Morgana laughed, Arthur grumbling something incoherent as he opened his eyes. "Good, both of you are awake. Come on, up, Merlin, can you cook?" 

She was sweeping into the kitchen before Merlin had a chance to respond. And he was _warm_ , again, and he wasn't so sure he could ever go back outside if this is what it felt like to wake up warm. Morgana had lit the fire, and stood in the kitchen. There was a collection of food on the table, and Morgana stood with her hands on her hips again, fixing Merlin with a small smile. 

The two of them started cooking, while Arthur sat at the table watching them. He had missed cooking, he used to be good at it, he used to have _dreams_ that his cooking could achieve for him. Soon enough, Morgana was sitting at the table with her tea and Merlin was cooking enough breakfast for three. For so long, he had been cooking. He had been the head chef back at Mickey's, he had been working there for years. He was going to go places, he was going to open his own restaurant one day. It had been his dream, and he had been so close to that goal. 

He had created his own dishes to add to the menu, they were more popular than anything Cenred had ever made. Then he had modified his old dishes. Clearly, Merlin's cooking was fantastic. He had been in the process of looking to go on one of those television cooking challenges, put his name out there, then open his own restaurant when he got some money. Cenred underpaid his staff, if it weren't for Merlin's dishes the business would have gone under. He was certain of that. 

Cenred hadn't wanted Merlin to leave. 

Merlin had tried to tell him about the rats he had seen. Just two of them, a mother and it's baby, scurrying along the corners of the kitchen. He had been appalled, but Cenred had accused him of lying, of trying to get him shut down so he could open a competitor. Merlin hadn't known what to do. And when the infestation was discovered, Cenred had placed the blame on Merlin. 

And it had ruined him. Any call backs for jobs had been simply so they could ask him what had happened, why he hadn't told anyone he had seen rats. Merlin could only say, quietly, that his boss hand't believed him when he had told him, and left the building. Every dream Merlin had crumbled along with the restaurant. No one wanted someone like him, who lied, the papers, the news, made him out to be the  bad guy. Cenred was the owner, well known around the town and generally well liked. The public would believe him over some nameless young man. 

The thoughts made him sad, as he cooked, and when he was dishing everything out on the three plates he set them on the table, in front of each of them. Arthur looked a little too thin, so Merlin had given him a slightly larger portion. Before he sat to eat, he carried the dishes to the sink, and set about washing them. 

"No, Merlin, don't worry about those. Come, sit, before it gets cold." 

Merlin shook his head. "Just a quick rinse won't take too long." He said, because he had made the mess he had to clean it up. And it didn't take very long before he was sitting down at the table with them, Morgana setting a steaming cup of tea in front of him. He loved chai, and Morgana seemed to drink it often. 

"This is wonderful, Merlin." She hummed approvingly, "you are simply wasting your talent." A slice of something bitter coiled at the end of his tongue. 

"Thanks" He said, voice low, ashamed of himself. He should have called it in when he had seen it, not given it to Cenred to decide. 

Arthur hummed his agreement, and with both of their approval, Merlin started eating too. 

It was so strange to be full like this - to eat regular meals. But he knew he would have to leave soon, today, probably, but maybe he could get a shower in first, a proper shower and not a hasty scrub in one of the public showers he could sneak his way into. He hated being dirty, simple bars of soap were one of those things he needed to have. 

"Do you think," he started, after they had finished eating and he was taking care of the dishes, "that I might be able to shower? Before I leave." 

Morgana laughed, "Oh no, Merlin, you're not leaving. You're simply too talented in the kitchen for me to let you go so soon." 

"What?" This really wasn't happening. 

"Morgana burns everything she touches." Arthur supplied, coming up beside Merlin to help him. His warmth seeping into Merlin's side a little bit wonderfully. "I don't know how she's survived so long." 

"Then it's settled. Make a list of any ingredients you might need for dinner tonight, I'll send Arthur to pick it up." 

He handed Arthur the last dish, his fingers wet against Merlin's. "You know where the shower is." Arthur said, fixing it gaze on him. "Go on, then, before she pulls out the rum." Arthur's elbow nudged into Merlin's side, and he gave him a grateful smile. 

He ducked into the washroom, closing the door behind him and just standing there for a moment. Then he stripped off each layer, folding each piece of cloth and setting them on the counter. He stood there, naked, and started the hot water. He turned to the mirror, inspecting himself in it. He was very thin, his ribs were visible, his hipbones were like the edges of blades. 

But he had an opportunity, here, one that he really should take. He needed to take it, because he would freeze out there alone, he knew that. This winter would be his last if he kept up how he had been going. But how long would it last here? He wasn't so sure if he could accept this kind of charity when he had nothing to give back.  

The water was searing hot when he stepped in, and he let out a breath, tilting his head back to let the water wash over him. He rubbed real shampoo into his hair, And after he had rinsed that out, he used conditioner. Before all of this, he hadn't bothered. But it was here, now, and he should damn well use it. 

He had always liked simple soap, but there was body wash in here, and one of those weird plasticy fluffy ball things. 

It took him almost an hour, standing under the hot stream of water, soaping up every last inch of skin, the places between his toes and the back of his knees. It felt beautiful, and it was only when the water started to cool that he stepped out. The towel hanging was soft, thick, he wrapped it around himself tightly, fighting away the chill of the air. 

His old clothes were dirty, and instead there was a pile of clean clothes on the counter. He grabbed them, inspecting them. The shirt was plain, probably one of Arthur's,  and the pants definitely said Morgana. He slid on the boxers, and then the pants. They were made of soft cloth, and fit reasonably well, if a little slim in the legs. He probably looked like a fool, but they were warm and clean. 

These people were doing too much for him. 

When he got out of the washroom, Morgana had set his bag on the coffee table, the dirty clothes beside it. 

He put them in the wash, after Morgana showed him how to do it. The blanket, too, everything he owned that was cloth. His bag had never been so empty before now, and he scanned through the items. He didn't have many things, most of it had been pawned off. The phone that he had been using, before he eventually couldn't afford it anymore. The key to his mailbox, back at the place he used to live. He had checked it a few times, but there was never anything for him. 

There were a few small tokens, a few pieces of his mother's jewellery, the butterfly clip Guinevere had left behind what seemed like so long ago. Will's favourite book (or rather, the only one he would ever read) was in there too. 

It ached to look at all of it, knowing all the other things he used to have. His computer, lovingly modified to suit his needs, his massive collection of books, that beautiful bookshelf. 

He zipped the bag closed and left it there, walking back to the rest of the room. Arthur was pushing his coat into his arms, "you're coming with me." He said, voice a little strained. "If I stay here any longer there might be blood." Arthur's mood had taken an abrupt change from the peace of earlier. Merlin nodded mutely, pulling his coat on (it felt so strange, too loose, without all the extra layers) and followed him outside. 

It was still cold out, but the air wasn't as sharp as nighttime. He didn't feel like the cold was settled so deep anymore, he was warming up. Arthur stalked to the car, opening the driver's door and unlocking the other side for him. This one was far less flashy than the one he had seen last night. 

They ended up driving across town, there weren't very many places open on Christmas day. Eventually, they ended up at one store, crowded and noisy inside. "Morgana volunteered you to cook dinner, are you even okay with that?" He asked, bitterness sharp on his tongue. There were far too many people, Merlin was uncertain about all of this. He wasn't used to it anymore. He didn't go into any nightclubs anymore, not without looking suspicious. They were slow in the winter anyways, they were hardly open. He wasn't used to big groups of people. 

He stuck close to Arthur. "I don't mind." He said, gently, not so sure if he wanted to tell Arthur so much about him yet. "I like cooking, it's fine." Arthur nodded, distracted. 

"What should we have then?" He asked, and Merlin let Arthur choose. It wasn't his money, he had no right to decide. Until Arthur began selecting a few items, and Merlin quietly asked if they had other things, things that would go well with the base amount of things that Arthur grabbed. 

They ended up with a lot of food, Arthur paying with a quick swipe at his card without a glance at the price. As they headed back into the parking lot, Merlin started talking. "What's got you down?" 

"It's none of your business." Arthur snapped, and Merlin frowned. Then the other sighed, putting the last of the bags into the back seat and slamming the door. "Morgana thinks she knows what's best for me, sorry. She's hidden my phone, and refuses to give it back. She thinks it's better for me." 

He leaned against the side of the car, sensing that Arthur wasn't keen on going back. With the new warmth he had found, he could stand outside without shivering. It was almost nice, he pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. 

"Well, is it?" He asked through a mouthful of smoke. "Is it better for you to not have it?" 

"I don't know. I'd call my father." 

Merlin paused, if he had a father, or any parent really, he would call them. It wouldn't need to be a debate. "I was actually on my way to my father's house when someone hit me." Arthur interrupted his thoughts, his voice soft. 

Driving must be difficult with an arm in a cast, Merlin thought. He hadn't even considered that when they had got into the car. "What happens if you call your father?" He asked. "Will he find you?" 

Arthur nodded. 

"Do you want me to drive back?" He offered, softly. He still had his wallet in his pocket, his licence hadn't expired yet. 

"Alright." Arthur said with a shrug. 

He tossed the cigarette into the snow, Arthur put the keys into Merlin's hand, and went to the other side. He hadn't driven anything in a really long time. Before all this mess started, he had walked everywhere. He had legs that worked perfectly fine, so he used them. 

He drove them back to the house, he wasn't sure who owned it. He couldn't be sure. For how busy the grocery store was, the roads were dead. Arthur hesitated going inside at first, carefully grabbing all the bags he could with one hand before Merlin nudged him out of the way with his hip, gathering up all of them and letting Arthur close the door. 

Arthur was still a mystery to him, this whole situation was strange, actually. They had no reason to show kindness, but they were. But whatever was going on wasn't any of his business, not really. It would be best if he let them handle it on their own.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is tired of this, and the last thing he wants is for Merlin to find out who he really is.

 

 

Christmas dinner was fantastic. Merlin was an amazing cook, he had never had something so good before. Even the simplest of things, the vegetables, were done in such a way that made them the most fantastic thing he had ever tried. And Merlin didn't seem to mind cooking, he looked peaceful when he did so. While Morgana was off doing who knew what, he was free to sit in the kitchen and just watch him. 

What he didn't understand was why someone with so much talent would be homeless. He seemed far too good at it, why did he seem to have no one else to stay with? He wanted to know Merlin's secrets. But Merlin still had his guard up, he could see that, he was still worried he would be kicked out at any given moment. 

He was still a bit riled up from his conversation with Morgana, while Merlin was still in the shower. She refused to give him his phone, surely there were people trying to get ahold of him. And his father still needed to be dealt with, not that he knew what he could say or how he should say it. Who cared what the press wrote when his father controlled every part of his life? 

Merlin slept in the spare room that night and he kind of missed how it felt to have someone's legs squished against his own. Merlin was all bones and it was a little uncomfortable but he still liked it, he liked Merlin. Merlin hadn't acted like a star-struck fan when he had first seen him. He had been humble, like he didn't feel he deserved their company. 

So the last thing he wanted was for Merlin to, first thing in the morning, be reading the paper. The article was there, he knew that, and he wondered if this is where judgement hit. Morgana was off shopping, claiming last night that she needed to go early to get all the good deals. 

They stared at each other for a moment, before Merlin gave him a shy smile. 

Of course Merlin had seen it, and it was there, plain as day. Another damn reporter taking it upon themselves to spread more rumours, more nasty ideas. If he went online and searched for his name, he knew what he would find. 

Merlin didn't seem too concerned, he stood slowly. "Breakfast?" He asked, and Arthur nodded. He was still tired, and sincerely wished Morgana had a coffee maker. He was sick of tea. He watched Merlin as he got up and wandered through the kitchen, wearing socks and his own clothes. He looked good in them, they didn't look like something someone would where if they didn't have a home. 

He guessed he hadn't been out for too long, then. He just needed to know why. 

He grabbed the paper, pulling it towards him and staring at the article. It was just more bullshit, his name in black ink talking about how he was on drugs. No one could let go of that idea, could they? 

The two of them ate breakfast in silence, enjoying the spaces between them. 

But he knew he would have to face reality soon. He would need to sort out this mess with his father, and he would need to do something about the press speculating on his life. But this was nice, he liked that there was someone _here_. He spent too much time alone, too much time brooding.

The holidays ended slowly, it kept snowing, Merlin kept living there. He was shy, timid, not sharing much. Arthur suspected that he worried that his place here wasn't permanent, that he'd be kicked into the snow soon. Arthur wasn't really sure how to reassure him that he really could stay, that it was fine. 

Morgana had to get back to her life, though, and fiercely told him he was staying here until all of this blew over. Arthur didn't want to go. It was a little town, he hadn't left the house much but people hadn't recognized him instantly, people hadn't swarmed him. 

He felt safe, almost. She left early in the morning, after lecturing Merlin on the importance of making sure Arthur was well fed, and giving him a card he could use to buy food with. 

Everything shifted when she left, Merlin would leave the house for long hours in the day, leaving Arthur to wander aimlessly through the house, phone in hand, debating on calling his father. 

His father had left him messages, each and every one of them scathing and borderline cruel. When Merlin would come home, grinning and flushed from the cold, everything would feel a little better because Merlin would start cooking something. 

The coffee issue hadn't been solved, though his arm had. He had grown very tired of it, and had stuffed a fork under the cast to scratch at the skin. Which had resulted in some pretty gruesome looking scratches. So they had taken it off, carefully, and Merlin had tenderly dressed the scratches and wrapped his arm up with one of those bandages, for muscle aches, and Arthur had given him money to get a brace for his wrist. 

Merlin was almost out the door when Arthur woke up, bleary and tired and nearly stumbling down the hall. When he spotted Merlin he called to him, telling him to wait because they were going to get a fucking coffee maker and Merlin was driving. 

Merlin had left breakfast wrapped up on the counter for him, Arthur wondered if Merlin ate on the mornings that he left so early. He put it in the fridge, dressed, then met Merlin in the hall. He looked uncertain, clutching a folder with paper in it to his side and waiting awkwardly at the door. Arthur pushed the keys into Merlin's hand, and they stepped outside. 

"What do you do when you leave?" He asked, once Merlin was pulling out onto the street. 

"I hand out resumes." He replied, heading off down the street. There was something that might have been delicious about Merlin's voice. "I've been trying for months to find work." He said. 

"Why haven't you had a call back?"

Merlin frowned, "it's.. complicated." He sighed heavily. "I should tell you, huh?" He asked softly, sparing a glance at Arthur, eyes sad. 

"You don't have to." He replied, Arthur wasn't ready to share his secrets, he couldn't force Merlin to share his.

"Nah, I will. You're giving me a place to stay rent-free. You should at least know why." But he could tell Merlin was nervous, the way he drove was jerky and uncertain. 

It didn't take very long to get a coffee maker, Arthur didn't need anything fancy. Just something simple. He grabbed the first one he saw and spent a bit longer browsing the jars of coffee for something that wouldn't taste like shit. 

When they got back home, the first thing Arthur did was plug the machine in, add water to it, and start a pot. He did that before even bothering to take his shoes off, leaving the bits of plastic wrap and styrofoam scattered across the floor where they fell. 

Merlin slipped in quietly, gathering up the bits of garbage all over the floor and throwing them out. 

They both worked quietly together, and sat down at the table around the same time. He could smell the coffee, it would only take a few more minutes before it was done. 

Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's stupid." He started, lamely, "I worked at a restaurant, and it was awesome. I've gone to school, I've done everything I could, and I was fucked over." 

Merlin launched into the story, and Arthur listened. As Merlin was speaking, the coffee finished, so Arthur grabbed them both a cup and poured some sugar into his, setting the container of sugar and the carton of milk in front of him, setting the spoon he used between them. Merlin grabbed it, not pausing in his story, to dress his drink up how he liked. 

"I was going to open my own restaurant, or maybe go on one of those cooking challenges you see on tv. I guess Cenred knew I'd drive him out of business, he planned the whole damn thing. I wouldn't be surprised if he let a few rats loose in the place just to screw me over."  

He sighed, sipping the coffee and staring at the table. "I tried to be smart about it, my landlord kicked me out when he found out I was out of a job. I had two weeks to prepare. I pawned off almost everything I owned and kept what I could." 

"Didn't you have any friends to stay with? Or your parents?" Arthur asked. 

"I've been so preoccupied with my job, I hadn't really seen any of them in so long. It didn't seem right to ask them for help. Not when Gwen's probably getting married soon, I'd just  be in the way. I didn't even know my name was in the papers until I'd spent a month on the street, handing out as many resumes as I could. I guess I kind of.. gave up when I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere. No one's going to hire the guy who didn't tell his boss about something important like that." 

He sagged back against the chair, watching Merlin look defeated. "What about parents?" He asked, hesitant, watching Merlin stiffen. 

"Never knew my father. Mum died about two years ago." 

"I'm sorry." He said, wondering how it would have felt to have lost his mother after being raised by her. He had no memory of his own. 

There was silence between them, peaceful, before Merlin fixed his bright blue eyes on him. "What's your story?" 

Arthur squirmed, unwilling to share this part of him. "Are you.. some kind of celebrity?" He asked, Arthur frowned. "It's just, every time I look at you you look so.. sad." 

"Not here, come on." He said, standing and making his way into the living room. He sat down, still cradling the coffee in his hand. Merlin sat down beside him, quiet, ready to listen. 

So Arthur started to talk. 

He started with _Nails_ , and how he had truly enjoyed working on that show. And then how it had all gone downhill. How his father had suddenly got interested in his life again. That it was high-time he thought about settling down. He could still act, but he had to do something else with his life. Something more important. A family would always be more important than a career, because his father had made that mistake long ago, and didn't want Arthur to do the same. 

The fight happened on set, he liked doing what he did. He wanted to keep doing what he wanted to do, not what his father thought was important. That was the day he had told his father he would really rather start a family with another man, rather than any of the random women Uther hoped Arthur would end up fancying. 

Uther had turned to the producers, threatened them into both keeping this a secret and to 'let Arthur go' in the series. 

He had spent the next episode they filmed getting zipped away into a body bag, all his secrets uncovered. Since then, his father had been in his life constantly. Sending him messages, setting him up on 'dates', leaking rumours to the press. It had been hell, and up until the accident, he had been in contact with his father. 

He was surprised by Merlin's hand clasping his shoulder. 

"Guess we've both went through some shit, huh?" He said kindly, Arthur put the coffee between his knees and stretched his hand to his shoulder, folding it over Merlin's. 

The position he held was uncomfortable, though, so he dropped his hand and let it rest beside him, Merlin's hand slipped away. "You can stay as long as you need, I think." He said. "I don't know what I'm doing," Merlin had a much better grip on what he wanted to do than Arthur did, "but you can stay here until you figure things out." 

Merlin nodded, smiling, "I need everyone to forget who I am first. Or.." He paused, but sighed. "Or I could go on Sliced." 

"Huh?" 

Merlin grinned, getting up and fishing around for the remote. The tree had been removed long ago, the whole living room felt so much bigger without it. Colder, almost, without the warm glow of the lights. He watched Merlin flop back down beside him, turning on the tv and flicking through the channels, before scrolling an hour ahead on the on-screen guide and pointing at it. "You've gotta make a couple dishes using random ingredients. The winner gets a cash prize, it would be perfect to get me out of this mess. And I'd like to open my own business one day." He was grinning, his eyes were bright. 

"Why don't you?" He asked, curious, the way Merlin's eyes lit up when he spoke about it made him itch just under his skin. 

"Because they wouldn't take me." He said sadly. "I might be good at what I do but my name's in the paper connected to a rat infestation. I don't think they'd take me on." 

"Well what if you came clean? Told them what happened instead?" 

Merlin went very quiet. "Do you think that would work?" He asked, softly. "I know they have people with not so happy stories, sometimes, but this might be too much?"

Arthur stood, moving to his room and grabbing the laptop Morgana had left behind. He turned it on, and once it had started he went to the webpage, it looked simple enough to fill out. Merlin sat close to him, thigh to thigh, Merlin leaning into him. And maybe he had the screen facing him more than it faced the both of them on purpose, but neither of them were going to comment on that. 

Everything was awkward with one hand, so Merlin's came to sneak under his elbow, his fingertips brushing the touchpad, scrolling through the questions curiously. "You seriously think this would work?" He asked again, almost shocked. 

Arthur nodded, "it's worth a shot, right? The worst that could happen is that you don't get accepted." 

Merlin was suddenly wrapping his arms around him, a strange half hug where his arm was trapped between them. He ducked his head to Merlin's shoulder, his black hair soft against his cheek. "Thank you," Merlin's breath hot against his ear, before he was pulling away. 

He watched Merlin fondly as he filled out the questions, turning to the television so he wouldn't be caught staring. 

It was a few hours later that Merlin finally lifted his head from the screen, turning to look at Arthur tiredly. "I need a picture." He said. "Of me, uh, I don't have a camera or anything." 

The last time Merlin had spoke, it had been to ask for the charger because the computer was dying. He pulled the phone from his pocket, "I've got this?" He suggested, Merlin nodded. 

"Think I should shave?" He asked, blunt fingernails scratching at his chin. "No, I probably should." He slid the computer to the table in front of them, getting to his feet. Arthur waited while Merlin did that, but he had the door open. Bored, he finally got up and made his way to the doorway of the washroom, where Merlin was leaning forwards over the sink. He was half-way through, soap smeared over his skin. 

Arthur stayed there, watching him, "you missed a spot." He added, unhelpfully, as Merlin scraped the razor under the line of his jaw. He liked watching Merlin work, his eyes pulled forward in concentration. He would rub his fingertips across his skin after running the blade over it, checking that he hadn't missed anything. Tilting his head and arching his neck to get at every last part of it. He turned on the water, letting it run warm before cupping his hand under it, using that to wipe his face. Arthur just watched, leaning against the door frame as he ducked his head over the sink so he didn't make a mess. 

Merlin turned away, grabbing one of the small towels to wipe his face off. He turned to Arthur slowly, "how's this?" He asked, voice soft. 

Merlin looked like an entirely different person. His skin was smooth now, pale with the rest of him. His jawline seemed stronger now, his cheekbones stood out so much more, he looked younger. For a second, the breath was knocked out of him. "Looks great." He said, trying to keep his thoughts a secret. Merlin didn't need to know that Arthur would have liked to press his palms to his cheeks to feel the softness of freshly shaved skin. 

"Come on, then." He said gruffly. "Picture, then we should eat." 

Merlin was grinning, looking happy in a way he hadn't seen on him yet. Or at least not often, as Arthur pulled up the camera and tried to take a picture. Merlin's good mood was infectious, his laughter filled the room and soon Arthur's did too. He told Merlin that he looked deranged when he smiled like that, so he really shouldn't smile like that. He even gave Merlin an example, how he _should_ do it, and Merlin only stuck his tongue out and snatched his phone from Arthur's hands, turning the camera back at him. 

"Now who looks deranged?" Merlin rumbled, shoulders shaking with laughter, as Arthur spluttered and tried to get the phone back. 

The laughter died at the sound of the door opening, and the both of them turned. Was Morgana back so soon? She probably would have called first, or made a loud announcement in the doorway. Arthur cast a glance around the room, the computer was on the table, opened to the entry page. Abandoned cups of coffee on the table, little rings left on the grass from where Merlin had been a messy drinker. It wasn't super messy, but it was lived in. One of Merlin's hoodies had slid off the back of the chair onto the floor, the sugar and milk (shit) was still on the kitchen table, a tea bag in a spoon next to the sink. 

Hopefully Morgana wouldn't flip. 

He gave Merlin a shrug, stepping towards the hall and freezing as Uther rounded the corner. 

Arthur's blood ran cold, as he took a few steps back. Merlin was still clutching his phone. "You vanish from the hospital, I don't hear a word from you for weeks, and here you are. Playing 'house' with this boy and taking advantage of Morgana's kindness." Uther's words were cold, Arthur didn't bother pointing out the fact that it had been Morgana's idea. Though Morgana openly hated Uther, he cared for her, blind to her hatred for him. 

"How did you know where I was?" Arthur asked, his voice rough, hyper aware of Merlin standing just behind him. 

"Morgana thinks she's clever when she buys houses in small towns." He said casually. "Her habits are predictable. Now, gather your things, we're leaving." 

"No I'm not." He said carefully, he hadn't spoken to his father in a few weeks, now, he only had Merlin for company. Without a word, his father pulled his own phone from his pocket and tapped on the screen a few times. Then, his phone in Merlin's hands, was vibrating. Merlin jumped and nearly dropped it. 

"So, why does the help have your phone?" 

Suddenly Arthur was outraged, how _dare_ his father assume that Merlin was less than his friend? "He's not 'the help'." He growled, stepping towards Merlin and taking his hand, boldly, wondering if Merlin would notice the tremble in his fingers. "He's my boyfriend, and I'm not leaving." 

Merlin wound their fingers together, his grip tight on Arthur' s hand. "I'm not interested anymore, father, please leave now." 

His father's face was getting a bit red, Arthur thought, but Merlin's hand was warm in his, keeping him grounded. "You need to cut the shit, Arthur, and come with me, _now_ , or-"

"I don't care." Arthur interrupted. "You can threaten whatever you want, but I don't care anymore. Do whatever you'd like, go ahead, but I'm staying here." 

"You will regret this." Uther hissed, turning and leaving the home quickly. Nervousness crept in Arthur's stomach, and he remained standing there for a long time after the sound of Uther's car had disappeared. 

He felt Merlin shift next to him, felt him press his warm hand to his wrist, turning to him. He said nothing, only pulling him slowly towards the kitchen. When he let go of Merlin's hand, his fingers felt numb from squeezing too hard. He watched Merlin flex his fingers, and sat at the table quietly. Let his father ruin him, he wouldn't care. And if his father sank so low that he revealed their location to the press, then fine. He would grab Merlin and they would find somewhere else. 

Merlin was pushing his phone back into his hands, Arthur only stared at it. 

Merlin was cooking dinner, and Arthur dialled Morgana's number. 

"What is it this time?" She answered, voice lazy. "Don't tell me that you've bitten Merlin's head off and you nee--" 

"Father found me." 

The line went quiet, then, "shit." Another pause. "I'm so sorry, I thought he wouldn't find out about it, I didn't know he--"

"It's okay." 

"No, it's not, you need to stop saying things are okay when they're not." 

"No, it really is. He can do and say anything, and I don't care anymore. You know the press will love anything he has to say, then it'll pass, they'll move on, and it'll be okay." 

Morgana sighed. "I don't know if we should stay here or not, though." He said, frowning. "I don't know if he would give up this location or not." 

"Go get a hotel then, for a few nights. See what he says. Just please remember to lock the door, and turn out the lights." 

"Merlin turns the lights out for me." Because Arthur had a habit of forgetting about them and he'd just quietly switch them all off. 

He could almost hear the smile in Morgana's voice when she told him that he'd better take Merlin with him wherever he went. 

"There's a hotel not too far from here, yeah?" He asked, Merlin paused in his cooking for a moment, thinking, then nodded. 

"It's a few blocks that way." He said, waving his hand in a random direction. 

"Is it tall?" 

"Er, yeah, I think so." 

Arthur nodded. "We'll go there tonight. I don't know what my father might do but.. I don't want to risk it. The last thing I want is a horde of people around this house." If they could get a room where the windows faced the house, then they might be able to see the house from there. Then they could tell if there were people crowding around it, or if it was safe. 

They ate together, mostly quiet, enjoying each other's quiet company. He wondered if it would be a bad idea to bring the coffee maker. Such a shame that he had only just bought it and now they had to leave. 

He shooed Merlin out of the kitchen, telling him to pack up his stuff and get ready to go while he rinsed the dishes. He had thought, actually, about giving Merlin a bit of money to buy some new clothes. But he didn't think Merlin would take it, he was too proud. And that was fine, because he had caught him, once or twice, wearing one of his shirts, and it's not like his actual home didn't have more than enough clothes to choose from. 

When she heard about the accident, Morgana had driven to his house to collect a few things. So he found the suitcase and packed everything she had brought in it, then grabbing the computer so Merlin could finish his application. 

They met in the hall, tugging on coats and gloves, he remembered Merlin wearing his wool hat most of the time, and the painful looking mark on his ear. It wasn't there anymore, it was just a shadow, but Merlin was very careful to make sure the hat covered them. 

They left, locking the door behind them, and he called out to Merlin as he made his way to the car. "Let's walk." He said, Merlin nodded. Arthur paused for a moment, memorizing the front of the house so he would be able to find it later. "Where's the hotel?" He asked. 

"There." Merlin pointed, and he could indeed see the lights from the windows from where they were. 

They headed off down the dark street, the snow turning to slush under their feet. They walked elbow to elbow, and wondered if Uther would go after Merlin - but Uther didn't know Merlin's name, or anything about him. He would probably be safe, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to risk it. The last thing he wanted was for Merlin to get wrapped up in this whole mess while he was trying to get his life together. 

But he wanted Merlin in his life, he was new and he wasn't here because of his fame. He was here because he had needed help, he hadn't even known who Arthur was. And even if he was lying, he hadn't treated him differently. Not like most people. Even other 'celebrities' treated him as though they were all a cut above the rest (with some exceptions, there were some fine ladies out there, if only he could be interested in them). 

When they got to the hotel, Arthur stuffed a bunch of money into Merlin's hands. "It's going under your name, that okay?" Merlin simply nodded, pocketing it as they made their way towards the counter. 

"Hello." Arthur said smoothly, putting on a stupid fake smile. "We're looking to get a room for a couple nights, top floor, and do you have anything facing that way?" He pointed in the direction of the house. 

"One moment please." The kid (he looked fifteen) said, prodding at the computer. "Looks like we've got a one bed room on the top floor, definitely facing that way, and then on the second floor we've got a two bed room." 

"We'll take the one on the top floor." Arthur said quickly, it wasn't ideal but it was the best way Arthur could keep an eye on the place, so he could wait and see what would happen. He watched Merlin pay, give his name, produce his ID, and took the key cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to use the names of any real shows, so I changed the name of the show. Clever, isn't it?(not)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He owed Arthur everything, it hurt to see him suffer like this.

 

The room was a nice size, not too small but not too big. It was comfortable, and from the next room over he could hear the soft thumping of the television. Unless it was a couple getting down and dirty and knocking the bed against the wall.  

He flopped down on the bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, before turning his attention to Arthur, who was standing at the sliding glass door. He opened it, a cold breeze sweeping through the room, so he pulled himself to his feet and joined him outside. 

Perhaps a bit carelessly, Merlin had purchased a pack of cigarettes. It was the only thing he had bought with his own money in the last few weeks. They stood beside each other, scanning the rows of houses until they found Morgana's. It was the perfect place to watch from, they could see the street and the surrounding houses. If anyone swarmed the house, they would be able to tell. 

Merlin lit one of the cigarettes, elbows on the railing. "It'll be fine." Merlin said, nudging Arthur with his hip gently. "And if it counts for anything, I'm still here." He offered, which brought a smile to Arthur's face. He grinned in return, happy to have given him a smile like that. 

And things would be fine. 

They retreated back into the room, when their hands got cold, after Merlin had finished smoking, and sat beside each other on the bed, taking their shoes off. "I'll take the floor." Merlin offered, he had slept on plenty of hard concrete floors, a carpeted floor in a heated room would be lovely compared to that. 

"I'm not letting you take the floor." Arthur replied, annoyance in his voice. 

"I've slept on concrete before." Merlin pointed out, he still wasn't entirely used to the idea of Arthur knowing all his little secrets. "So this'll be comfortable." He rubbed his toes over the carpet cheerfully. 

"That's exactly why you shouldn't sleep on the damn floor." Merlin frowned, looking over at him. He looked so tired, sitting there, he wanted to reach out to him, let him know it would be all okay. 

But he didn't know if it actually would be okay or not. He could hope, and that was it. But all of this made him wonder if he should just go, now. It was getting warmer, the nights weren't so cold anymore. He had survived the winter, he was still alive, he could set off into the world again and try to make his way with what he had. Maybe it had been long enough for the whole issue to be forgotten about. 

"Come on," Arthur started, voice gruff, "let's get this thing finished." He pulled out the laptop, setting it over Merlin's knees. "Are you done filling it out?" He asked, rooting through his bag to find a cable. 

The fact that he was actually doing this, trying to make himself sound good while still trying not to play up the incident too much. But he had shared his homelessness, just a little bit, because he had to be honest. They had to know. 

They got the application finished late into the night, Arthur pointing to one of the pictures, one that Merlin thought looked too goofy, and telling him to use that one while Merlin fought for the composed one. It was only when Arthur stated that Merlin looked much more handsome (and what a weird fucking phrase) in the goofier one that Merlin relented. 

They settled into the bed, side by side, because they were both adults and neither of them were letting the other sleep on the floor. Something warm curled in Merlin's belly, he could feel Arthur's heat beside him. He really wished that one of them were the type to cuddle in their sleep, unfortunately they were both still in more or less the same position as they were when they had gone to sleep. 

He was buried in the blankets, sleepy and warm and feeling rather pleasant, peering at the pale sky outside. He yawned, rolling to his stomach to sleep a bit more. He felt Arthur shift beside him, and peered through messy hair (when had it grown so long?) at him, his shirt ridden up as he padded to the little bathroom. 

He was asleep again by the time he heard the shower running, not thinking about Arthur getting naked in there. Definitely not. If he did then he wouldn't get back to sleep. 

Something heavy fell on him, later, and he groaned in annoyance because sleep was a lovely thing. Arthur laughed, and he pulled the blankets down enough to peer at him. "Come on, their free breakfast ends in an hour." He prodded, happily, Merlin's bag had been tossed on top of him and he rolled it away, rolling to his back and squirming. There was a shirt under his back. 

Apparently he was a sleep-stripper, he had definitely worn a shit when he had gone to bed. 

He giggled uselessly to himself, causing Arthur to send him a strange look. He only laughed more, amused at himself. He sat up, stretching, pulling on his a fresh shirt and getting up. "Ready." He said happily, grabbing his socks and sliding his shoes back on. Arthur only shook his head at him. 

"How's the house?" He asked as he stood. 

"It's clear." Arthur said, relief evident. "But that doesn't mean we're out of the woods yet, it might take them a day to get there." 

Together, they made their way downstairs to the breakfast room. Cereals, bagels, coffee, the usual dry food items, were lined on the counters. Arthur grabbed the largest cup of coffee he could (which wasn't that big) while Merlin stuck with tea. 

They sat down together, Arthur grabbed a newspaper, and sat down to eat. Merlin was enjoying the bagel when Arthur's expression twisted. 

"What is it?" He asked, concerned, straightening up in his seat. "Arthur?" 

Mutely, Arthur handed the paper over, and he scanned it until he found what he was looking for. "Shit" he breathed, "he's not serious, is he? Who would.. why?" He couldn't imagine a parent saying things like this. None of it was true, he didn't need to ask. None of this seemed like something Arthur would ever do. 

Now he didn't know what to say. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Merlin nervously uncertain. Arthur's phone went off, suddenly, breaking through their silence. He simply passed the phone to Merlin, rather than answering it himself. 

Merlin answered, carefully, and was greeted by Morgana's voice, loud and shrill, in his ear. "Arthur, you need to do something about this! I know I said you should lay low but you simply _can't_ stand for this!" 

"It's Merlin" He said, interrupting her rant. She seemed to deflate, a little bit. 

"Okay Merlin, it's up to you. You _need_ to make sure Arthur does something about this. He can't let Uther get away with this, this is disguising and he needs to step up, come clean, and set the story straight." 

He looked at Arthur, who was still sitting there numbly, his world tilted by the words in the paper. "I'll try." He said, voice soft, "but I can't promise anything." 

He hung up the phone, setting it to the side and turning his attention completely on Arthur. He didn't really know what to do. Of all the things to be printed, of all the things this strange father could have chosen to say, he had settled for this. It painted Arthur in a cruel light, it made him look like everyone else, all those other celebrities out there that went on drug binges and did stupid things. It wasn't Arthur, he couldn't see that in him. Arthur was better than all of that.

Merlin stood, reaching over to Arthur and hooking his hand around his elbow, pulling him up and dragging him away, to the creaky elevator and back up to the room. He sat Arthur down on the bed, grabbed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign and hung it on the door, before locking it and sitting down beside him. "Go back to sleep." He instructed, and when Arthur didn't respond Merlin was pushing him down. Arthur complied enough to lift his legs to the bed and wriggled out of his shoes, at least, and Merlin tossed the blankets over top of him. 

He couldn't think of anything else to do, he wandered to the other side of the bed and sat down, sliding off his shoes and socks and, sitting beside him on the mattress quietly until Arthur started to relax. He didn't move until he heard his breathing shift into sleep, and grabbed the remote to flick the tiny television on. 

The volume was low, he could hardly hear it, but he just sat and relaxed, enjoying the warmth of the room. He had the blanket pulled up to his knees, grabbing every pillow that Arthur wasn't using to lean against. While flipping through channels, he spotted the face of Uther on the screen, looking solemn, answering questions. 

His stomach churned, he changed the channel. Merlin had never understood the obsession with celebrities. The most he had ever cared about was what someone was going to be doing next, and really nothing else. 

He woke up to Arthur nudging him, opening his eyes and peering at him groggily. Arthur still looked beaten, but Merlin sat up and fixed him with a grin. "I'm not going to make you do anything." He stated, getting that out of the way. "We can probably go back to the house though." 

So they did, after gathering their things (it was almost funny that, even though they both came from wildly different places, they had a single bag filled with everything they owned. Even if Arthur owned so much more, this was all he had now, they lived out of their bags.), they made their way back to the house. And together, they curled up on the couch under blankets and turned on the television. 

Neither of them wanted to, that much was clear, but Merlin understood Arthur's need to. It was dark inside, only the light of the television and the glow of the streetlights outside. It would be spring soon. 

The show was playing snips of Uther's speech about Arthur, before cutting to Morgana, sitting in a tall chair looking elegant. Morgana who had, apparently, chosen to give an interview. 

It really was a mess, actually, she claimed that everything Uther said was a lie, and that Arthur had been quietly living with her after the accident. He hadn't been taking drugs, he had been stressed. They kept pressing her for answers, unwilling to believe her statement, asking her roundabout questions. They got her flustered, eventually snapping that her brother was a good, clean man, who was just caught up by his father's expectations.

And, apparently, the fact that they were related wasn't common knowledge. Suddenly, they were firing off questions about that instead. She simply left, fed up with all of it, and left the reporters scrambling over this new information. 

Arthur was silent beside him, Merlin reached to him and folded his hand over Arthur's securely. Arthur turned his hand to Merlin's, his fingers tightening over Merlin's hand. He was pulling his phone out with the other, finding Morgana's number and dialling. Instead of keeping a part of the conversation quiet, he put it on speaker phone. It warmed Merlin, a little bit, that Arthur trusted him enough. 

But he supposed he was involved now, there was nothing else to do but keep learning. 

"I'm sorry." Morgana said, her voice a bit ragged. "I didn't mean to say it, I really didn't. It slipped out." 

"It's alright." Arthur replied. "It was Uther's secret anyways, not ours. I'm not ashamed to be your brother." Something happy fluttered in Merlin at that, it was sweet to hear the way he cared. Morgana was quiet on the other end for a moment, he could almost hear her smiling. 

"Maybe it will show him that he can't spread lies like this." 

"Or it will prompt him to start a war." Arthur's words were soft, realistic. They both seemed to know that Arthur could end this. 

"Merlin's still there?" She asked. 

"Yep." Merlin piped up, shifting a bit closer to Arthur so she could hear him clearly, their hands still folded together. 

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. You're a good guy, Merlin. Thank you." 

Merlin really didn't think that Morgana should be thanking him, he hadn't really done much. He really should be the one thanking her, for essentially saving his life. But he kept his mouth shut, now wasn't the time for it. 

"Keep your head up, Arthur. Merlin, watch out for him." 

She ended the call like that, and Arthur sagged on the couch a little bit. Then, without warning, Arthur sank his head onto Merlin's shoulder, letting out a breath. Merlin rest his cheek on Arthur's hair and closed his eyes, he had forgotten what it was like to be so cold he couldn't think, and here, with Arthur along his side, he couldn't imagine ever being cold again. 

By morning, Arthur had made the decision to clear a few things up. Which meant he would have to leave the small town for a little while. He told Merlin to stay and watch the house, the nights were still cold but better than they had before he had started living here. Merlin itched to go with him, to support him, but Arthur had given Merlin his phone number, so he could use the landline any time to give him a call. 

He drove Arthur out of town to the airport, watched him get on the plane and waited. Arthur had given him enough cash for groceries and gas for a few weeks, though he hoped to be back sooner than that. 

Merlin lingered in the airport for longer than he needed, wondering what the house would feel like without Arthur there. When he got back, he couldn't help but feel a little out of place. It wasn't his home, not really, without someone else there he felt more like an intruder than a guest. 

He watched the celebrity news sites constantly, in hopes of hearing what Arthur was going to do. He searched online, on the laptop that Arthur hadn't taken with him. He learned that Uther wasn't saying anything about Morgana's bloodline, but they had found out anyways that she was the illegitimate daughter from Uther's carefully hidden affair many years ago. 

But nothing from Arthur yet, in a panic he had searched for stories of plane crashes so he'd know that Arthur hadn't been in one. 

He was still sleeping in the morning when Uther arrived. The man walked into Merlin's room while he slept, standing there, leering over him, until Merlin was jolted awake. It was a bit terrifying to see him towering over him while he was half dressed. "You do not own this house." The man said, his voice frosty. "You do not live here, you are a trespasser, and you certainly don't belong here. You cook and clean for him, don't you? That is the extent of your use. I suggest you leave, now, before something bad happens." Uther's hands were on Merlin's wallet, inspecting his ID casually. "Do I make myself clear, Emrys? I will not press charges if you're gone by this evening. And stay away from Arthur, he has better things to do than look after someone like you." 

Uther didn't wait for a reply before he disappeared down the hall, leaving Merlin trembling and a bit terrified of the man. Merlin had already gone and fucked up his life, he didn't need this stranger to add anything else to it. 

Terrified, he gathered his things. He had, somehow, lost two of his shirts and acquired three that were probably Arthur's. Once he had everything, he turned off the heat and threw away anything in the fridge that would go bad soon and took out the garbage. He locked the front door, got into the car, and left. 

His hands trembled, he knew he shouldn't take the car but it would be so much warmer if he did, he'd survive the tail end of winter with it. Or he'd go to jail for stealing. That was okay, though, he couldn't get a job, getting in trouble for stealing a car was just another notch in the shit-hole that was his life. 

He pulled into a parking lot, it was empty, no signs saying not to park there overnight and slammed his hands on the steering wheel, swearing and pressing his forehead to it. 

Merlin had grown complacent, comfortable, forgetting that he didn't have a home or a job and his name was more or less filth to any potential employers. He had left the money in his wallet, he realized, the money intended for groceries and gas. He supposed he'd still use it for that, but he felt bad about having it just the same. 

So, quietly, he drove back to the house, left the money in the car and locked the doors, sliding the keys through the mail slot. Then he started walking, the bag heavy over his shoulder, filled with more things that would help keep him alive. 

It was the life he had earned for himself. And really, he didn't have any place mingling with actors. Who was he kidding? He hadn't belonged, but they had saved him from freezing to death in the winter, he had another three seasons before he would have to deal with that again. 

It left him feeling wounded, he had seen what Uther could do, and couldn't risk it. Even if he worried about Arthur, he had Morgana. He knew she would be there for him when he needed someone. As long as Arthur had Morgana, he would be fine. He tucked his coat tighter around himself, bending his chin into his scarf, and just kept walking. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something about Merlin that he just couldn't place, something that kept him from giving up.

 

The interview was terrifying, but it hadn't been nearly as scary as speaking to his father. But he had faced him, head held high, and addressed the interviewer with a calm smile, only getting flustered when she asked if he was seeing anyone. Arthur wasn't entirely sure if that was even a possibility, the last thing he wanted was for him to think Arthur was using him.  

He met Morgana for coffee after, feeling nervous but happy. His father could do no harm to him anymore, he had came out and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. He felt free, and as he and Morgana walked down the street he called the landline of Morgana's home to talk to Merlin. 

There was no answer, he frowned, but left a message, telling Merlin to call him soon. 

He went to his house, gathered up his things in a few bags, and prepared to head back. People were calling him for interviews, but he ignored them. Except one number, that seemed to stand out at him. It was different than any other one he had seen, but he recognized it. He couldn't quiet place it. 

"Hello?" He asked, the phone pressed to his hear. 

"Hello, this is George, from Sliced, I'm looking for a Merlin Emrys? Is this he?" 

Arthur found himself grinning. "He's just out for a minute." Arthur lied. "I'm a friend, is this about the application?" 

"We can only speak to Emrys about this, but I can say that he will want to get back to us as soon as he can." He rattled off the number, Arthur scrawled it on the desk in black pen and grinned. 

"Thanks, I'll get him to call you right away." They had sent in Merlin's application very late in the hotel room. It had taken them almost no time at all to process it, Arthur was thrilled. He called the landline, but there was no answer. Maybe Merlin was out? 

An hour later, as he finished gathering his things, he called again and left a message on the machine. 

But he was flying back soon enough, it wouldn't take long to get there. Then he could just find Merlin himself, tell him the good news. While in the airport, waiting for the plane, Arthur checked online. For once, the people weren't eating him alive. Those bullshit celebrity gossip sites were talking about him, yes, but they weren't speculating on drug use - instead, they were gushing about who his 'special someone' might be. 

They'd never find Merlin. Arthur wasn't so sure of all this himself, even, but that wouldn't stop him. 

He didn't get to Morgana's house until early the next morning, Merlin was probably still sleeping. He hadn't wanted to wake him, so he had just taken a cab. Something seemed weird, though, as he walked up the front steps. It had snowed recently, the car hadn't moved. There was a layer of snow over it, but he kept going, unlocking the front door and stepping inside. 

The keys were on the floor, and it was bloody freezing inside. He grabbed the keys off the ground, his stomach cold, he didn't bother closing the door behind him as he strode through the house. 

Merlin's room was empty, untouched. The fridge was mostly empty and didn't smell, it had been cleared out. The messages and missed calls alerts were flashing on the phone at the corner of the kitchen. 

Why would Merlin just leave, though? Merlin was a little bit noble, perhaps as soon as Arthur had left he had gone too. It caused a spike of worry in his chest, remembering the first time he had glimpsed the evidence of frostbite on Merlin's ear. Morgana had pulled him to sit on the toilet while she put antibiotics on it, putting a loose bandage on it to help it heal. 

But Merlin had survived up until Christmas eve on his own, it wasn't as cold now as it was then, so the chances of Merlin freezing to death were slim. It didn't make him stop worrying though. He hadn't left a note or anything, Merlin would have done that, wouldn't he? 

But surely he would want to know that he had an interview, it was big news. He had to find him. 

He didn't bother locking the doors as he left, heading to the car and brushing the snow off of it. When he got in, the money he had given Merlin was on the seat. His heart sank, he cursed loudly, and peeled out of the driveway. 

He drove around for an hour, down every side street and alley, looking for anyone who might be Merlin. Anyone wearing the black coat he had, or the toque he wore, or anything that he had seen Merlin wear. He gave that up after a little while, it was well into morning now, if Merlin hadn't found a place to go for the night he would surely be up and about by now. He parked in the middle of town and set off on foot, ducking into restaurants and coffee shops and book stores, any places where he might be. 

By late afternoon, he still hadn't found him. He called Morgana, telling her what had happened. "You said Uther showed up there, right? What if he went there while you were gone? What if he talked to Merlin?" She stated. 

"He wouldn't do that." He managed, desperate to believe his father was better than that. 

"You know he would. Look what he's done already." 

He hung up on her, starting off again. He still hadn't found Merlin, and he wouldn't stop until he finally found him. He was ground desperate, anxious, hoping that he wasn't too late. 

It wasn't until two AM that he finally admitted defeat, walking slowly back to his car. It was too dark to see people's faces when he drove by anyways, he didn't have a hope of finding him. 

There was someone leaning against his car when he got close to it, and realized he had left the money on the seat, where Merlin had left it. Great, a break in, and with a sigh he trudged on. The person leaning against the car straightened, Arthur guessed they were going to run off now, caught in the act and scared of getting the police called on them. Instead, they made their way towards him.

He jogged the rest of the way towards Merlin, without thinking pulling him into his eyes. "You bloody _idiot_ I was worried about you." He said, face pressed into Merlin's neck, the other's stubble brushing his ear.

"Your father came by." Merlin's voice was raspy, his lips were chapped. Arthur pulled back, hands still on Merlin's arms. "He told me to get out. So I left, I didn't know what to do." 

"Let's go back then." Arthur instructed. "I haven't eaten today." Which was entirely true, actually, he had been too preoccupied and worried to stop to get anything. 

"Is that all I'm good for?" Merlin asked weakly, shaky laughter falling from his lips. 

Arthur kept grinning. "You're good for a few other things." He said. 

"Like cleaning up after you?" 

Arthur's grin faded, he stared at Merlin for a long moment. "Is that what he told you?" He asked, voice soft. Merlin's laugh wavered. 

"I didn't believe it at first, but long nights out here gets you thinking, you know?" Merlin was cracking a little bit, Arthur could see it, and gripped him tighter. "So I thought, what if that's all I'm good for? Just a servant." Merlin laughed his trembling laugh again, and Arthur pulled him close. 

"You're my friend." Arthur said, voice warm, as Merlin's arms drifted around him in return. "Much better than any servant. You've got to know that, Merlin." He felt Merlin relax, felt him let out a breath and rest his chin on Arthur's shoulder. 

"Fuck, it's nice to hear that." Merlin murmured, Arthur chuckled. 

"Let's get home, okay? I've got some good news for you." He said, while unlatching his arms from Merlin and taking a step back. He unlocked the doors of the car and got in, Merlin slid into the passenger seat and placed his bag at his feet. On the way, Merlin explained what Uther had said. Arthur was outraged, and as they went in he made sure to bolt the door. The metal was sticky, it hadn't been used, but where a lock could be picked this was entirely secure. Unless someone beat the door down. 

He waited until Merlin had shed his coat before telling him the news, that Merlin had an interview to appear on tv, that he had been accepted. Merlin launched himself at Arthur, laughing and squeezing Arthur's neck to the point where he almost couldn't breathe. But he couldn't get in the way of Merlin's happiness, and the way he could feel Merlin's bones as all hard lines under his arms.

"Thank you." Merlin said, coming down from his excitement slowly, sagging and loosening his grip but not quite letting go. "Truly, thank you." Arthur tightened his grip, caught up in Merlin's happiness along with him. 

They untangled themselves from each other, the air felt charged and new. Something had shifted between them. Merlin was grinning brightly, and the two of them went into the kitchen. Merlin took the random assortment of food that was still there, putting it all together. It was excellent, Arthur had never had anything like this before. And knowing that he had an interview, Merlin was full of nervous energy. 

They ate together, and after, parted in the halls to their own rooms with a brief elbow nudge. He felt complete with Merlin here, he would be too alone, like his place in the city, without him. There was still his father to deal with - but all the doors and windows were locked securely, he wouldn't be able to get in without alerting them first. 

They were safe. 

In the morning, Merlin called the number Arthur had written down (he had left the ink drying on the desk), his hands shaking nervously. But he could see the bouncy excitement just under the surface. Merlin put the call on speaker, so they could both hear. "Hey, this is Merlin Emrys, I'm sorry I missed your call." Merlin started. 

"Ah, yes, of course. Thanks for getting back to me, now, we'd like to have you in for an interview, we can do this through a video call, or you can come down to the studio." 

"We can go there." Arthur hissed, Merlin fixed him with a wide-eyed stare, unbelieving, Arthur nodded and nudged him in the ribs. 

"Uh, I'll come down there." Merlin said shakily, still eyeing Arthur almost suspiciously. After everything had been organized, Merlin glared at him. "A video call would be fine." 

"You want this, right?" Arthur retorted. "If you fly to them, it looks so much better. Otherwise, if they accept you, they're going to have to bring you to them. If you can get your ass over there, that's less work for them." 

"Shit." Merlin said blankly. 

"We'll leave tomorrow." Arthur said proudly. It was also a bit of a relief to be getting out of the city, where his father would know where they were. "You know, Merlin, you're probably going to have job offers after this." He said warmly. Somehow, the possibility of them parting ways didn't really occur to him. He'd been living just fine for months without his _things_ , he could do just fine without them. He had no interest in taking any parts for now, there was nothing tying him down anywhere. He could go wherever Merlin wanted to. 

Merlin refused to accept Arthur's reassurances that he would be accepted, on the application Merlin hadn't actually written that he had been homeless, only that after losing the job he had lost his home and had nowhere to go. That said it, Arthur thought, but Merlin worried that they'd get hung up on the fact that they were thinking about bringing some homeless bum into their fancy kitchen. 

Arthur reassured him that it would be fine, he had done well about it, hadn't he? And he hadn't been without a home for too long, just a handful of months, but his reassurances still left Merlin uncertain and fretful, Arthur pointed out people that he had met in his life, who had been in awful situations and who were now thriving. 

Merlin remained unconvinced, so Arthur didn't push. He might have, once, long before he had even met him. But that was a Morgana tactic, pushing and pushing until a fight started. 

Merlin was so sure of his failure, and though Arthur had confidence Merlin couldn't be swayed. They were still going, and as long as Merlin didn't back out he was still winning. That's all that mattered, as long as Merlin gave it his best shot. 

Instead, they went to the kitchen for breakfast and argued over which was better, tea or coffee. Bickering uselessly as Merlin cooked and Arthur got in the way. Clearly, Merlin was at least a little bit inspired, adding extras to the meal to create something new. To test himself, maybe. He had managed to catch a few episodes of the show, most of the things they used were items he'd never even heard of. 

"I used to buy any strange ingredient I came across." Merlin said pleasantly, as the strange-looking omelettes sizzled on the pan. "I'd bring it to the restaurant, and it would be the special for that night, I did it once a week. Cenred didn't like it at first, not really, he thought it was stupid until I begged him to try it. It got really popular after a little while. We were always busy those nights." He said it fondly, Arthur could see the smile on his face as he spoke. "I could do research on it first, make sure I brought in enough. The tips alone from those dishes paid for whatever I bought." 

When it was done, he set everything down on the table and they sat to eat. "Clearly you know what you're doing." Arthur commented, grinning. 

They spent the day, after buying their plane tickets for tomorrow - they couldn't get on one for today, despite Merlin's protests that Arthur shouldn't be wasting his money on him, shopping for anything weird that Merlin had never cooked with. "One day I'll pay you back for this." Merlin promised softly, "I swear it." 

Arthur only shrugged, he had never developed a drug habit, the money he had made from the roles he had taken (and a few years ago, he was taking whatever he could just because he could) hadn't been spent on anything stupid. A nice place to live, not too extravagant (like his father's home, which was an actual mansion), and not too small. He quite liked the place, actually, and as Merlin drove (while Arthur drank expensive coffee happily) he wondered what it would be like to have Merlin fill all those empty spaces. 

"Merlin" He drawled lazily, "you're an idiot if you can't enjoy this. Have some, really, you'll change your mind." He could never quite make coffee like the shops could. Merlin scoffed at him. 

"I'm driving, you prat." He replied, "and I never said I don't like coffee, I just prefer things that are actually good." 

Arthur laughed, and when they pulled into the driveway demanded that Merlin try the damn coffee before they went in. So Merlin did, grumbling, telling him that it tasted burnt before scampering to the house. "Burnt?" Arthur asked, outraged. "Burnt my ass, this is _lovely_." 

Merlin cooked the rest of the day, feeding Arthur experimentally and mentally calculating the results. There were some things that were actually kind of gross, so Merlin fixed them up to try to make them good. 

They left the next morning, the two of them packing up everything they owned and making sure nothing was going to go bad in the fridge. Arthur wondered if they were coming back here, or if this was the last time they would be here. 

They caught a cab to the airport, Merlin had got ahold of Arthur's phone and was playing a game on it while Arthur watched lazily. He had offered to buy Merlin one, once, but Merlin had refused, telling Arthur that he could just use his phone, he didn't need his own. It wasn't like either of them would use it much anyways. 

The airport was a little crowded, but not too bad. They weren't waiting too long, and eventually they got onto the actual plane. "I've never flown before." Merlin confessed as they settled into their seats. 

"It's boring." Arthur said with a shrug, he had flown many places in his time, but he still remembered his first plane trip, being young and thrilled to see the world through the tiny windows. 

Merlin was jittery as they took off, peering over Arthur out the window, but refusing Arthur's offer to switch seats. Eventually, waking up so early caught up with him, so Merlin shifted to drop his head on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur rest his cheek in Merlin's hair, sincerely hoping that after all this was finished, that they weren't going to part ways. He was used to having him around all the time, it would be strange if that changed.

He slept too, breathing in the smell of Merlin's hair, waking up later with Merlin slumped against him, one of his long arms over the hand rest, his hand curled beside Arthur's leg. Tiredly, he grabbed Merlin's hand and fell back to sleep. 

He woke up again later, much later, Merlin shifting beside him, the plane shifting around them. It was dark in the cabin, people were sleeping or relaxing. For a moment, he panicked at the stillness, but relaxed. They were almost there. Because most people were sleeping, they had simply dimmed the lights. It had been an awfully early trip. Someone was talking in a low voice to her child, who would occasionally giggle. Someone else was snoring, just a few rows down. 

Merlin hummed beside him, flexing his fingers where their hands were twined. He didn't remember that happening, actually, and stared in confusion for a moment. Though, he really wished that the armrests could move because it was digging into his side uncomfortably. He was warm, peering at the orange glow coming from the walls. Merlin tilted his head slightly, Arthur peered down to meet his gaze. 

The orange light lit up the sharp angles of his face, his hair was a mess from moving around so much, his eyes looked gold, he was a little bit gorgeous like this. He brought his free hand up, heavy from sleep, to brush against his hair. Merlin leaned into the touch, his eyes flickering closed again. 

Arthur was doomed, definitely doomed, he thought with a smile. Merlin fell asleep again, Arthur stayed awake. He only woke Merlin up when they were about to land, nudging him awake gently. It took a minute for him to sit up on his own. The lights were brighter now, crisper than the hazy orange earlier. He hadn't even noticed the change until he woke Merlin. He stretched, arching his back and letting go of Arthur's hand to raise his arms above his head. Then he was putting his hand back into Arthur's, blinking lazily around the cabin. 

Merlin was still half asleep when they got off the plane, blinded by the bright colour of the sky around them. It had been so peaceful earlier, and this place was bustling with people. Merlin stuck close. 

His place was an hour away from the studio, he had a car and had driven these busy streets before. They took a cab, Merlin was awake enough by now to be staring out of the window. "I haven't been in a city this big in ages." He said, grinning, all his nervousness was apparently forgotten. 

When they first stepped into his place, top floor of an upscale apartment building, Merlin seemed to fill in the spaces already. He hadn't even tried, and he was doing it. There were security guards downstairs, five other floors, one living space per each floor. So it might have been a bit fancy, but it wasn't multiple floors, nine or more rooms. Merlin was busy poking through the kitchen, his bag left forgotten on the floor. 

He remembered when Merlin had been so protective of it, always making sure it was within sight. Now he left it in the middle of the floor as he went to explore. "It's just a kitchen." Arthur said, amused. He rarely even used it, but there was a coffee maker. That's the most of what he had used lately. 

"You have no food." Merlin declared, as Arthur was rummaging around the cupboards. "And what you do have is actually really gross and we shouldn't eat it unless we want to get sick." There was a rather unpleasant smell coming from the fridge, now that he thought about it. He hadn't really planned on leaving it for so long. 

They had a few days before the interview, a few days for Merlin to practise. But he refused, he didn't want to because he didn't want to feel like those days had been wasted. Arthur didn't bother answering, only called Morgana and told her they were in the city, and they should meet for lunch. 

Merlin was nervous, nearly bouncing as they walked. Arthur kept his head down, hoping to not be recognized. They took the side streets to avoid that, and met Morgana at a restaurant that served mostly noodles. 

"Merlin, you're looking lovely." She said with a grin when they met up. "What's the occasion? Romantic getaway?" Her voice was teasing, Arthur determinedly didn't look at Merlin. 

"TV show screening." Arthur said. 

"Really? Oh Arthur, that's great to hear." 

"No, it's for Merlin." 

"Oh!" She was sliding into her seat, fixing Merlin with her bright eyes. "Tell me all about it." 

Merlin started speaking slowly, their conversation only interrupted by the waiter dropping off menus and taking drink orders. He started to get into it, after a little while, telling her that he'd always wanted to. His experiences at the restaurant, how he had no idea how this was going to go. 

The two of them chatted as Arthur watched, eyeing the restaurant, they had attracted a few looks on the way. Or, Arthur had, anyways. People who thought about walking over to him, he had seen it in their eyes. He wasn't ready for it, he had bowed his head and sped up. Merlin had only kept up to him, never questioning him.

He thought about the orange lights in the plane, so different than the dim white ones in the room. He was sitting beside him, leaning against the wall, watching Merlin use his hands to speak. He had removed his coat, it lay over the back of the chair, his wrists were thin and the bones in his hands stuck out. He watched the curve of his mouth and the way it formed words, he watched the way he smiled, and the lines that appeared at the corners of his lips when he smiled. 

There was something about Merlin that he just couldn't place. Whatever it was was soft, alluring, it was completely irresistible. It was a wonder he had been alone, he just couldn't fathom it. Not having Merlin in his life was a difficult thought to process it. 

And gods, they weren't young anymore, were they? They were getting there, they weren't teenagers, they weren't in their early twenties anymore. Arthur had never been married, very few relationships, not like so many other people in his stupid little world. Merlin was only two years younger than him, but Arthur would be thirty in less than two years. 

He sat back, tearing his eyes away from Merlin and focusing on the waiter, carrying their food. He and Merlin dug in as Morgana delicately picked at her plate. They had a few days together, like this, then things could change. And once they changed, he couldn't be so sure what would happen then. 

But he'd keep in contact with him, he'd keep him close. 

They wasted the day together, he took Merlin through some of his favourite places, the places he hadn't enjoyed in far too long. And over the next few days, he found himself catching Merlin looking at him. And he really thought that this should be easy, everyone made the act of getting together sound so simple. 

But Merlin had too many other things to worry about, Arthur didn't want to add his affections (unwanted or not) to the burdens. 

The day of the interview Merlin looked paler than normal. And as they drove, Merlin kept glancing over at him, fingers twisting in his lap. He reached out, patting Merlin's shoulder comfortingly. "You'll be fine." He promised.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, things actually do work out in the end.

The kitchen was pristine. It was stunning, actually, especially to be here rather than just watch it. It felt so real, far too real. He wasn't so sure he could do this, but he had gone this far, it was too late to back out. 

The last few weeks he had been cooking, almost non stop. This city was so much bigger, there were so many other things to try out that he'd never known existed. It was a new world here. 

The excitement was dulled, somewhat, knowing that it was Arthur's money paying for it all. That Arthur had brought him here. Arthur had done so much for him, he didn't know if he could ever repay him for this. But he would, because he could _win_ this. And he would, for Arthur, and then he would pay him back for his kindness. And Morgana, too, but she hadn't bought him a plane ticket to get here. She had been the one to offer him her home. 

He didn't know where Arthur was, they had parted ways so Merlin could go through the fifteen minutes they had to look through the kitchen, so they could learn where everything was. He wished Arthur was there, so he could watch first-hand. It would have given him more confidence. After the walkthrough, him and the other three were brought into different rooms, for their official filmed interview. 

Arthur had rubbed his fingers through his hair just before, telling him that it looked better messy like that. No one had fixed it yet, so he thought it probably looked fine. 

The camera was obnoxious and hard to ignore, but he sat there, tried to relax, and started talking. He shared his story, and couldn't help the way his eyes watered as he admitted to being homeless, after the problem with the rats. He had been told not to mention any names, but that he should talk about his time on the streets. So Merlin did, they wouldn't use all of it, he knew, but they'd use enough. 

His story was no longer a secret. 

Then, the show started. 

The first round was easy, he finished before the clock ran out and double checked to make sure he had everything done correctly. 

He wasn't eliminated the first round. Or the second. 

The third round was the challenge, and with the ingredients they had to use - ice cream would be perfect. But he rarely saw the machine work out anyone who used it. So it might be a risk, he thought, but he had to take it. He was so close to winning, he just needed something to push his work over the edge. 

He laughed, out loud and patted the machine fondly. He'd used this same model before, and he knew it well. It had a habit of being a brat , but he knew how it should and shouldn't sound. He knew the noises it made when it was done. He had this, he well and truly did. 

He stood in the kitchen, after their dishes had been tested and tasted and reviewed while him and a man named Percy had fretted over it, hands clasped tightly behind his back, trying to stop the tremble in his blood. He almost couldn't believe when it was Percy who lost. Merlin stared, wide eyed, in shock, before grinning. 

And there was Arthur, in the corner of the room. 

He had spent weeks preparing for this, he hadn't had much time to get any closer to Arthur. He had gone between worrying that they were just friends, and being so sure the feeling was mutual in these weeks. The host, George, was saying something about a surprise waiting for him, but he couldn't hear a thing because Arthur was walking towards him. His outline was lit by the lights, glowing gold around him.  

All Merlin could do, when Arthur stepped within view of the cameras, was to throw his arms around his neck and squeeze him tightly. Arthur's arms firm around his waist, he nearly threw his legs around him, but refrained. Instead, he kissed him. After all the struggling, those cold nights in the snow, the marks on his ear that had never really faded and feeling like he didn't truly belong anywhere, here he was. This was what he had done, what _they_ had done, because Merlin probably would have died out in the snow if he hadn't met Arthur and his sister. He couldn't have done any of this without him. 

The cameras were switched off, or most of them, Merlin had to sit down for a few last things. He said that he knew how that damn ice cream machine worked because he used one just like it before. 

Later, the other people he had been up against came up to him, congratulated him, told him that they were proud to have lost to someone like him. They said he deserved it, that they hoped he could figure things out. 

Arthur was by his side the whole time, surprising Merlin with casual touches. The brush of his hand on his lower back, his palm cupping the back of his neck, Arthur's fingers on his wrist. Each time he melted into him, happy to celebrate but also eager to get out of here, so he and Arthur could figure this out. Not that it seemed to need much figuring out - and besides, Merlin had kissed him in front of the camera, if they used that then it was clear what this was. 

They got home around three AM, Merlin's tipsiness gone from the long drive. 

He cared fiercely about Arthur, he had from the beginning. And when they got into Arthur's place, Merlin pinned him up against the door and kissed him again. 

 

 

 

 

The place was bloody packed. But Merlin was at ease, laughing and grinning as he threw the plates together. And god, Arthur was standing at the register like a teenager again, when his father had insisted that he learn menial work. But instead of looking up to someone, worrying that if the register was short it was on _his_ ass, the money that he placed into the till was _his_. He turned his head, and from across the room he met Merlin's eyes. 

They shared a grin, the first night was busy, the staff was working full throttle to keep up with it, but Merlin hired only the best. Percy, catching on to their eye contact, called 'get a room!' with a laugh. 

His father sat with Morgana in the corner of the room, splitting a bottle of wine as they chatted. He hadn't seen the two of them get along like this in years, but here they were, sitting and talking like they were finally moving on. It was refreshing to see them like this, for so long he had thought that they would never be able to sit in a room together. 

They closed at midnight, and it was well after that the other employees had finished their cleaning and gone home. Uther and Morgana had stuck around, she helped wipe tables while Uther stood at the till to help Arthur count and write up the deposit. 

Merlin came up behind him, arms wrapping around Arthur's middle and resting his chin on his shoulder. "Hey" Merlin purred, tiredly, he could hear it in his voice. After all these months he had Merlin's voice memorized, but each new word out of his mouth was a new pleasure to enjoy. 

Uther cleared his throat awkwardly, Arthur only grinned. His father still wasn't entirely comfortable with their relationship, but he was getting there. Slowly, especially because Morgana had promised him that she was straight and might have herself a family one day. But she also told him not to get his hopes up. 

Merlin slipped off to finish his work, Arthur tallied up the numbers and divided the tips between everyone who worked. Well, he let Morgana deal with the tips. She had a thing for numbers, and did all of it in her head while Arthur was still crunching numbers. 

When everything was cleaned, the money put into the safe, the four of them sat down over a bottle of wine to celebrate their first night. They sat in one of the booths so Merlin could sag against him like he had forgotten how to sit up on his own. 

He never thought that things would turn out like this, or that he'd be.. happy again. But there was Merlin, who really was his everything, and then his family. A little bit broken, a little bit too prone to cut each other out, but still together after all of it. 

"Merlin" He said softly, while Arthur was grabbing his coat, "come on, wake up." The hours had been hard on Merlin, but he had insisted on being there the whole day. Arthur wouldn't be able to convince him to do anything but that. But they'd figure out a rhythm, and as long as he got to come home with him, in the top floor of a luxury apartment building - where Merlin filled in those empty spaces perfectly, he was more than happy with it. 


End file.
